


I'll Keep You Better Company

by Douxgivre, FiccinDylan



Series: #steotrash [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Convergent, Cheating, Come Marking, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Feels, Hate Sex, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Marijuana, Mind/Mood Altering Substances, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Sharing a Bed, Steo, Trust Issues, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Douxgivre/pseuds/Douxgivre, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FiccinDylan/pseuds/FiccinDylan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles hates punching up and is tired of punching down.  He wants to move forward, and Theo is standing right in front of him.  </p><p>aka</p><p>#steotrash with some ~feels.  Go figure.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll Keep You Better Company

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Everyone!
> 
> A few notes: 
> 
> -Title taken from Holy by Wolf Colony  
> -This happens directly after the scene with Stiles and Theo at the clinic. It can be considered canon compliant and depending on the next ep we may expand it which is why there's a series.  
> -Because it's canon compatible Malia does exist and she and Stiles are dating.. I know, I'm sorry.  
> -This fic doesn't rest on the premise that Scott is a bad friend, but rather that Stiles doesn't think he's a good enough person to be a good friend to Scott. There's an importance difference here that Theo informs.  
> -Y'all, we thought a LOT about this fic, lol. Much more than this stupid pairing deserves. Arguments were had, it was amazing.  
> -Ethan is putting together a fanmix so stay tuned in the next couple of days for that!  
> -this is really a hard M and light E in that there's no penetration but there's a whole lotta jizz. But with ~meaning.  
> -Sterek is eternal, but Steo is trashy fun, roll with it.

Blood splattered… _again_ , nerves wrangled… _perpetually_ , fatigued… _still_ ; Stiles sits on the curb in front of the animal clinic trying to muster up enough energy to mourn his beloved Roscoe. He’s visibly shaking with what would be normally identified as guilt and grief, but is actually closer to annoyance; both at the situation concerning his enflamed Jeep, and the presence that looms above him, holding out a conciliatory hand.

“C’mon Stiles, we gotta get out of here.” Stiles looks at the hand, but doesn’t take it. He instead looks at the seemingly practiced face of his convenient savior. There was everything about Theo Raeken that he didn’t like, and the innocent gleam in his eyes topped that list. "My jeep’s totally busted. Any ideas?" He offers, trying to buy time to figure out what’s next. He knows inherently that he shouldn’t trust Theo; there’s something about him that’s so open and accessible. Too accessible. Theo stills for a moment and concentrates. The wounds on his face heal fast and he tears off a piece of his sweater handing it over to Stiles like a white flag.

"Clean off your face, it's covered in my blood." He prods gently. Stiles takes the rag cautiously. It’s not lost on him that the guy he hates for heretofore unproven reasons, just literally gave him a piece of the shirt off his back, but he can’t help his gut. He wipes at his face, taking in the scent of verbena, smoke and motor oil before shoving the cloth into the pocket of his hoodie. He looks up again at Theo who has re-extended his hand. This time, Stiles sighs a belabored sigh and reaches out to take it.

Theo’s grip is warm at first, but soon becomes confidently firm as he grabs Stiles by the arm and swings him until the boy is mounted on his back. The motion makes Stiles flail a bit before latching his arms haphazardly around the werewolf. It's weirdly intimate and Stiles is about to say something but before he can,Theo leans his head back and says "hold on" before he takes off running.

**

It's not 50 on the back roads of Beacon Hills in his jeep, but they travel fast. His concussion ever present, Stiles almost passes out twice but Theo jolts him awake both times. They stop outside Theo's house and he lifts open the bulkhead to the cellar. He helps Stiles down the steps, holding on carefully, delicately. Stiles wants to be repulsed but can't help but feel grateful. Stiles is deposited in an old lawn chair and tries to pay attention when Theo says he's going up stairs for some rubbing alcohol and clean cloth. The dust and staleness of the cellar tickle his sinuses, but Stiles tries to maintain enough of his facilities to ponder the situation at hand. Theo wants him dead.

Right? Stiles isn’t sure what Theo wants entirely, but since he’s so openly against Theo’s very presence, Stiles has to assume that Theo wants him out of the picture. Tonight would have been a perfect opportunity. Say he was knocked out when Roscoe got flipped. Say when he came to, Stiles was still inside, burnt to a crisp. Stranger things have happened and honestly that’s one of the many ways Stiles has imagined himself going out since he’s been involved in this supernatural nonsense.

So why not take the excuse and just give Stiles over to supernatural circumstance? There's no reason for Theo to help him right now if he wants Stiles dead. So why? Maybe he wants the credit? Wants to put his calling card on the scene when he takes Stiles out? He tries to voice his concern to Theo when he reappears with a bottle of whiskey and more old clothes along with a look of " _it’ll have to do_ "

“I couldn’t find the rubbing alcohol, I think dad used the rest of it, he gets awful razor burn.” Theo says as he comes back into the room. Stiles stands up a little too quickly, but steadies himself, ready to bolt.

“Theo, why-”

“We had some whiskey that I read somewhere would work, though it’s gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“Theo-”

“I also brought some old sweats. You’re a little taller than me, but they should be okay for now.” Theo wasn’t rambling, just speaking calmly like Stiles was a feral animal to be handled with care. Stiles could appreciate the tactic, but he hated him for it.

“Theo, shut up for a minute, Jesus.” He knows he shouldn’t provoke his probable killer, but Stiles had to figure him out, had to get to the bottom of this. He had to prove that he could do something besides just take lives. Theo looks directly into his eyes as though worried that Stiles’ head injury might be worse than he thought.

“Stiles, we gotta take care of those wounds. If Scott or Malia see you like this-”

"Why are you doing all of this?" Stiles interrupts. Theo stays silent for a second as Stiles watches him carefully, eyes slightly narrowed.

After a contemplative moment, Theo shrugs lightly and replies, "Stiles, look… I know you don't trust me, but I trust you. I know you'll do what needs to be done, Stiles. You can do things Scott can't." Stiles turns away from Theo at this. He doesn’t miss Theo using his name twice in the sentence to instill confidence and familiarity. He doesn’t miss that it’s fucking working. Without making eye contact he takes the rag and alcohol out of Theo’s hands and considers taking a swig to steady himself. He shouldn’t though, he wants to stay alert with Theo is such close quarters.

He wets the rag and hisses when he presses the old tattered shirt to his head, the alcohol igniting every exposed nerve under his sliced skin. He feels alive and dead in the same moment.

"You're right." He says hoarsely, looking over at Theo who is standing close to him, close enough to catch him if he falls. Close enough for that to be the reason. Theo cocks an eyebrow at Stiles, clearly checking to see if he’s made headway on softening the boy’s ire towards him.

"I am?" Theo asks carefully.

Stiles nods. "I've been thinking a lot about the way Scott has been handling everything. He’s not very proactive, he’s learning, don’t get me wrong. He’s a great leader _and_ alpha, he’s my best fucking friend!” Stiles looks at Theo who doesn’t overreact to Stiles’ justifications for what he’s about to say. He simply nods in agreeance, like he believes Stiles. Like Stiles believes himself. Scott is the alpha, and he should be a great one someday. “So I’m not saying this to bash him, because I’m not. It’s just that his unwillingness to stop a problem before it gets out of hand has gotten people killed and has saved others who should be dead. And I’m not saying he’s the reason those people are dead, he’s not. I’m the one who’s a kill-” Stiles stops suddenly and looks quickly at Theo who is still listening intently and without judgement. Stiles soaks the rag again and continues dabbing at his face.

“When I killed Donovan it felt like I was stopping something that could have gone farther if it had been Scott. One person's life isn't more valuable than dozens of others. I… I thought Scott would understand that even if he couldn’t do it, sometimes it needed to be done. It wasn’t my intention to kill him, I didn’t mean to, but… it needed to be- I mean- I’m not a bad person for- not for that and-" Stiles feels a warm firm grip on his shoulder and his eyes flicker up to meet the deep forest green of the werewolf in front of him.

“Stiles, I know.” Theo flashes his golden eyes, reminding Stiles that even though Theo has killed, it doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy. Not for that at least. Stiles nods again as Theo removes his hand and takes a step back. They stand separate for a few moments. Stiles has been waiting to speak his peace for a while, but could never find someone who would understand. Someone who loves Scott like he does, but recognizes that there are some… well, not flaws, but maybe ignorances. He’s been waiting for a confidant. But he didn’t expect to find it in Theo. Theo moves closer and Stiles wants to flinch away but remains very still. Theo reaches into his pocket and takes out a small bowl and a lighter before looking into Stiles’ amber orbs and asking, "You smoke?"

Stiles declines, still thinking about the whiskey in his hand that he wants to chug to numb some of the soreness in his body. He shrugs, "Makes me paranoid" as Theo chuckles and takes a hit himself, exhaling a waft of smoke away from Stiles who has sat back down in the lawn chair. Theo takes another hit and crouches down next to Stiles. The look on his face is pleasant, slowly relaxed, and relaxes Stiles. Theo reaches out. "Let me see your hand " Stiles hesitates but extends it, noticing the warm softness as Theo covers it with both of his and breathes out sharply as the pain from Stiles’ wounds is sapped into him. It feels… _good_. When Scott healed his hand it’d been a strange feeling, like he was taking something good from Scott to repair something bad in himself. But when Theo did it, it felt like he was getting filled in. He wasn’t sure with what and he wasn’t sure he wanted to find out, but for now this would do. Stiles flushes when Theo finally lets go, the throbbing pain now only a slight ache.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs." Theo reaches out to brace Stiles’ elbow, but Stiles politely pulls back and climbs the two flights of stairs by himself to Theo's bedroom, pointedly trying not to grip too tight on the railing. He follows Theo into the second room on the right. It's a normal teenager room; posters of swimsuit models and rock band logos on the wall, Xbox in the corner hooked up to a giant flat screen TV, a bong in the shape of a ‘Z’ sits below his window next to a box filled with empty prescription bottles, papers and lighters. Stiles can feel Theo watching him, waiting for his reaction. He picks up one of the prescription bottles and sniffs it.

“You mix this with wolfsbane?” He asks, cocking an eyebrow at Theo. Theo furrows his brow slightly and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m not trying to fly to the moon. It’s just, I don’t know. Gotta relax somehow, right? AP Bio is a lot more fun when I’m stoned and the doc approved this strain because it’s longer lasting.” Theo says as he walks to the window and turns on the fan. He picks up the bong and lights the bowl. “I fill the base with vodka, it adds to the buzz.” The body milks up and he waits a few seconds to inhale, expertly holding in the sweet smoke.

He exhales, this time towards the window directly under Stiles’ nose. He catches Stiles’ eye and drags his gaze quickly down Stiles’ body.

"I'm gonna go wash up, if you want to relax, feel free. I'm sure you'll figure it out. " he sets the bong and the lighter down closer to Stiles who’s trying to pretend to be nonchalant about the situation. He tries to think about what lies Theo could have told his doctor to get a script for the weed, but instead he feels a little sad. He remembers the first time he and Scott smoked behind the vet clinic. It’d been a fucking disaster. Scott’s asthma flared up and Deaton caught them. Thankfully the emissary turned a blind eye; something about showing mercy for all the times he’d been caught in a similar position, but Stiles couldn’t help but feel bad about hurting Scott. He’d just gotten a new inhaler and even turned a little blue trying to control his breath. Stiles hasn’t touched weed since.

Everything back then was simple. If you got burned you stopped touching the oven, but then, at the time getting burned was the worst thing that could happen to you. Not touching the oven was easy. Now, touching the oven is what you did to remind yourself that Hell is a lot hotter. Stiles looks towards the bathroom where he can hear Theo humming jauntily in the shower.

Theo ripped a chimera’s throat out, and Stiles caused the death of one.

“Fuck it.” Stiles grabs his version of the oven and the lighter and before he knows it, the acrid smelling heat is curling into his mouth and tickling his throat with thick smoke. He walks to the window and exhales a gust over a few seconds. He stands there waiting for it to hit him, not allowing his brain to think of anything for a blessed moment, when he hears a spark and turns around to see Theo with his pipe again. He walks up beside Stiles at the window but instead of exhaling out of it, he turns toward him and reaches for Stiles’ jaw. He pries it open slightly causing Stiles to inhale on instinct, and blows out the smoke in a thin stream - - the white ghosting into the human’s mouth. A familiar floating sensation fills Stiles’ body and he feels light when Theo removes the anchor of his hand from his jaw. Stiles leaves his mouth slightly agape and watches as Theo walks across the room, shirtless and a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. His skin is dewy and unblemished under the moonlight that shines through the window beside his bed. Theo stands at the side of his bed and motions for Stiles to come over. Before Stiles can fully decide, he’s on the other side of the room and Theo is gently pushing him down, sitting him on the bed with care.

Theo reaches down and tears off his towel before leaning behind Stiles and spreading it on the bed. He’s wearing black boxer briefs that say ‘Light vs Dark’ with a blue lightsaber on one side and a red one on the other. Stiles smirks up at Theo, seeing the recognition in his expression. The fucker was playing him, wasn’t he? He could barely get Scott to even acknowledge _Star Wars_ existed and Theo just happened to have a set of underthings devoted to it? Theo was planning something, and he was using Stiles to do it, Stiles was sure of it. And as soon as he sobers up, he’ll put together what. Stiles reaches towards the nightstand and grabs the whiskey from earlier. He takes a giant swig and relishes in the burn as it warms his belly.

“Can you get the bong again?” Stiles asks. Theo nods and climbs off the bed to get the bong from the window. He hands it to Stiles and then repositions himself behind him as Stiles drops his head forward and lines up for another go. As the smoke mingles in his nasal cavities, tickling his brain and squeezing his lungs, Theo braces one hand on Stiles’ shoulder, holding him gently, but firmly as he rubs his other hand along Stiles’ spine, moving up and down seeking out pain that he can soothe. He glides both hands up and down Stiles’ sides, checking for damage, squeezing areas and making note of when Stiles winces or goes still. He finally drops one hand down Stiles’s back to the waistband of his jeans and snakes his fingers carefully under Stiles’ shirt, giving Stiles a chance to react to the warmth of Theo’s hand on his lower back.

“I need to see what I’m working with here,” He says, lifting his hand, smoothly bringing Stiles’ shirt along with it. Stiles nods slowly and lifts his arms as Theo removes his shirt, careful to not aggravate his head injury. Theo finds Stiles’ back is fascinating -- completely different from his own. All freckles and moles with little definition, and a slight rounding from sitting at a computer all day or hunched of a table, undoubtedly researching something supernatural.

“Lay down.” Theo says without pretense or expectation. Stiles obeys without any of the same, just lays on the towel on his front, pillowing his head on his arms and letting the inebriation envelope him.

He can feel Theo’s hands, gently tracing a path down his back, circling his moles and fingering long forgotten scars. Theo was treating him like porcelain and although Stiles is pretty fucking high, he’s not so high that he forgets that ultimately Theo wants to break him And Stiles will be damned if Theo thinks it’s going to be that easy.

“You can go harder, I’m not going to shatter. A few cracks won’t decrease my value.” Stiles quips. He can feel Theo’s stare on him, but nothing is said as Theo begins to add more pressure.

He focuses on Stiles’ shoulder blades, skating up over the muscle with deep presses of his elbow.

“I know you’re not weak, Stiles. It’s just the best massages are actually pretty painful although you’ll feel amazing after. You’re already hurt so I was trying to gauge how much you can take. I’m going to lift your arm up by the head of the humerus now, and apply pressure there, okay?”

“I don’t need the play-by-play, I’m- _ssss...”_ Stiles hisses as Theo digs his finger underneath the now raised bone. It’s tense for a few seconds, but the pressure dissipates as Stiles exhales slowly. Throughout the next few moments, Stiles can barely hold in gasps and moans as Theo maneuvers around his body, releasing the tightness from his body. With every press he feels his muscles exhale until he’s loose and languid. The only tightness that remains is a familiar comfort in the base of his balls. His dick twitches slightly and he stills as Theo goes rigid above him, scenting the air deeply then chuckling lightly.

“Don’t worry. It’s a perfectly normal reaction. I don’t mind if you don’t. You don’t mind, do you.” It’s said not as a question, but not as a statement either. Almost like an enticement. Like bait. He’s straddling Stiles’ waist now as he works his hands on Stiles’ skin. After a moment he leans forward over Stiles’ back, Stiles can feel the point where Theo’s nipples touch his shoulder blades. He tries to look back, but stops when he sees Theo reaching forward to grab the bowl and lighter Stiles placed on the pillow above his head. Theo leans back up and Stiles notices the sudden rush of cool air over his back and he has to stop himself from wanting Theo’s warm body so close to his again.

Theo takes a hit and leans back over Stiles, a steady hand on his bicep, holding in the smoke and nudging Stiles’ bottom lip with his nose. Stiles opens his mouth allowing Theo to shotgun the smoke into him. Theo’s close and he stays that way until all the smoke is gone and they’re sharing breath between them. Before Stiles can react Theo has leaned back up, twisting to place the pipe elsewhere. Stiles feels Theo’s hand in his hair and a finger trace his up the shell of his ear to his hairline just above his temple.

“You’re bleeding.” He says. Stiles squints and reaches up, dabbing his finger in the blood that has pooled on the side of his head.

“Shit.” he says, letting a small, nervous giggle slip from his lips. He’s so fucking wasted.

“You should go shower. You can clean up a bit and maybe the steam will help clear your head, yeah?” Stiles nods as Theo disembarks and he gets up, grabbing the small pile of clothes Theo offered him earlier and the towel off the bed. He staggers to the bathroom and slithers out of his clothes before turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature. He climbs into the glass stall which has steamed up quickly as the hot water cascades over his body. After a few moments of rinsing off he looks around. There’s a small insert shelf and he doesn’t see any bar soap, just a bottle of unscented baby shampoo. Stiles shrugs and squeezes some into his hand, gliding his fingers over his body, ignoring his semi as he washes the grime and blood of the day from his skin.

He’s thankful it’s a baby shampoo as he carefully massages around his head wound to get out the crusted blood in his hair. He winces at the pain, but is quick and thorough as he gets clean. When he gets out he can’t tell if he feels sober or just more stoned. Sober him would get dressed quickly, grab his shit and leave. Stoned him wants to put a towel around his waist and go back out for Theo to continue the massage. He settles on stoned.

Stiles walks into the room shirtless with the towel around his waist and sees Theo already lying facedown on the bed, the covers strewn lightly over his torso. His head is facing the wall, but the covers are pulled back, an obvious invitation for when Stiles returns. The soothing hum of the window fan on high and blowing inside provide the only noise, but Stiles can barely hear either over the thumping of his heart. He wonders if Theo can hear it too? If it’s enough to keep him awake. Stiles waits for Theo to say something or do something; he can’t possibly be asleep, but Theo just lies still, breathing deeply. He climbs gingerly into the bed -trying not to rouse the other boy- before settling on his side, facing the door away from Theo.

They lie like this for few awkward moments, Stiles pondering Theo’s loyalty. He still doesn’t think he’s wrong about Theo, but just like him killing Donovan wasn’t black and white, maybe Theo isn’t either. Stiles’ eyelids are succumbing to the sands of sleep as he ponders this quandary, but before he’s all the way under, Stiles can feel Theo roll around on his side facing his back.

“Stiles?” Theo leans in so close Stiles can feel the whisper of breath on his back. He fights not to shiver and to keep his heartbeat steady as he remains quiet. Theo runs a finger lightly down Stiles’ back, inching closer and putting his face into the space between Stiles’ shoulder and neck, breathing in the boy’s scent completely, dripping a spot of drool onto his back.

Stiles hears the snick of claws inching their way out of their nail beds and feels the light tickle as they trace an indecipherable pattern between his shoulder blades. He hears the small pop of Theo’s fang emerge and for a moment he becomes nervous. He’s not… _scared_ exactly, but there’s an excitement with an undercurrent of anticipation that surprises him. Theo won’t hurt him, he knows that now, more suddenly and clearly than he knows his own name. The common sense and reasoning part of his brain tries to supply that his own name is a lie, but it’s snuffed out by another revelation: Theo cares about him.

He could have killed Stiles a number of times, but each time he saves him. Even now, even at his most vulnerable he’s completely at Theo’s mercy and Theo hasn’t tried to take advantage of him. Hell, he got him half naked and gave him a massage to take his pain away, he didn’t ask anything of Stiles. Theo didn’t ask the world of him, or more than he could possibly give. Not the way the others did. Or even in the moments where they don’t ask, but implicitly expect his accordance. In the moments when Scott has withheld and caused more harm than good.

And sure Stiles knows Theo is holding back, but for once he feels someone has _his_ interests in mind; that on the other side of whatever happens, Stiles won't be collateral from a half-baked scheme like Derek after biting Gerard; Stiles won't be like Hayden and Liam after another half assed scheme to lure the doctors. Stiles remembers shaking his head when he read that text from Scott. He hadn’t told Stiles that his plan was to trap the doctors, if he had Stiles probably would have told him how ridiculous it was. He wished Scott would learn from his mistakes. Start actually planning instead of just reacting haphazardly to everything. Scott was his best friend, but.. well, he was Scott’s best friend, he hoped at least. If Scott would still be friends with him after he finds out about Donovan. If he won’t, maybe Theo will be his friend? They could go to college together and get an apartment in San Francisco and-

Fuck, he was still high. But he can’t be assed to care when Theo presses the tips of his fangs into the meat of his neck muscles. Stiles exhales slowly and waits. Theo doesn't bite down, but instead drags them down Stiles’ neck, leaving little lines to the back of his shoulder, his tongue nipping out occasionally to taste the boy’s skin. Stiles feels another couple of drops of drool fall on him as though they’re the physical embodiment of the nearly inaudible moans escaping Theo’s mouth.

“Stiles.” Theo says, not louder, but with a bit more pressure. Stiles can feel his cock start to harden and is sure Theo can scent his arousal, but yet he stays still. Theo runs his hands gently up and down Stiles’ arm as he lisps through his fangs into his ear. “Stiles… I know you’re awake.”

Stiles lets out a moan but keeps his eyes closed as Theo scoots up close behind him. He rests his fangs on Stiles’ shoulder and reaches his hand between their bodies where Stiles can tell he’s thrusting shallowly into his fist. He tenses up and Stiles can detect the faintly chlorinated earthy smell of Theo’s release between them.

Theo begins breathing again, resting his forehead between Stiles’ shoulder blades. The top of his head is sweaty from the exertion and the wetness causes goosebumps on Stiles’ neck. He feels Theo’s fingers coated in something warm and wet run along his back, painting the substance in long swooping strokes into his skin. His hand sneaks underneath the towel, wisping over the small patch of light peachy fuzz above the crack of his ass. It comes back out and lays lightly over Stiles’ buttock, Stiles can still feel the heat through the towel. Theo gives a light squeeze and lifts his head, pressing his lips into the back of Stiles’ ear.

“If you need anything, anything at all- don’t be afraid to pretend you’re awake.” He whispers. Stiles’ eyes shoot open, but Theo’s already turned back on his other side and has fallen asleep. Stiles lays there, unmoving; Theo's cum drying to his back.

What the fuck was happening? Stiles almost flops onto his back, but thinks better of it, sitting up quickly and unwrapping the towel from around his waist. He positions the towel on the bed and lays back down on his back careful that none of the soiled area touches the sheet. He’s about to reach to pull the covers over him and stops again.

What the fuck was he doing? Theo wants to kill him, he’s got to stop forgetting that! A person who was sane, who had it together and wasn’t a self destructive maniac would get dressed and go. They wouldn’t let the villain jizz on their back and then climb back in bed buck ass naked for killer cuddle time. _Fuck_ , he let Theo jizz on his back! He put down a towel so he wouldn’t let Theo’s own jizz -that was currently drying on his back- mess up Theo’s sheets. The sheets that are on the bed that he’s fucking naked in. That he’s naked in with a _boner_. A raging, dusky rose boner that’s currently sticking up in the air begging for attention. Begging for someone to notice it and appreciate it. Not just jump on it and use it when it’s convenient for them before casting it aside. No, it wants someone to take care of it when it’s inconvenient. Stiles has an inconvenient boner and it’s not too much to ask someone to service it, even if they’re put out by it.

Shit, Stiles should leave, he _will_ leave.

He looks over at Theo and reaches out his arm. His body seems to have a plan of it’s own and just waits on Stiles’ brain approval to keep going. Despite puberty kicking him in the ass with suddenly growing and awkward limbs at different rates and speeds, Stiles could usually trust his body to do right by him. His brain cedes control as hand wraps around Theo’s shoulder, gripping tightly and lightly shaking him. Theo’s head turns and he makes eye contact with Stiles before running his gaze down Stiles’ body to his twitching erection.

Stiles’ hand is wrapped around the back of Theo’s neck and his thumb is tracing a line along Theo’s jaw. Theo squints at him, possibly still asleep, but gives a quick nod before leaning forward. He approaches Stiles’ mouth, as though to kiss him, but Stiles pulls back and shakes his head slightly. He doesn’t need… this isn’t about.. he’s not D-

“No.” he says simply, quietly, and Theo nods again and moves down Stiles’ body. Stiles looks up to the ceiling, noticing it’s flat and painted a dark cyan. He concentrates on it before he feels a spongy heat on the tip of his dick. He squeezes his eyes shuts and lets out a stuttering moan as he feels a tight suckling on his sensitive head. A tongue pushes into the slit and Stiles releases a drop of precome that is enthusiastically sucked into the mouth that’s on him.

Firm hands grip his waist as strong thumbs rub lines up and down the ‘V’ leading to his groin.

Stiles can feel Theo’s stubble on his balls.

“I’m still high.” He says absently as Theo begins to bob up and down on Stiles’ dick like a trigger, shooting off sparks of electric desire through the boy. Theo pulls off briefly, the cold air causing Stiles to shiver and make eye contact with the wolf on top of him.

“Yeah Stiles, sure. If you want me to stop, just pull my hair.” Theo says, not without a modicum of amusement. Theo noses under Stiles’ balls and kisses his taint, still looking at Stiles, before taking the boy’s member back into his mouth, closing his eyes and moaning as he sucked languidly at Stiles’ cock.

Another spark shot through Stiles, causing his toes to curl as he hisses out moan after moan. He does fist his hand in Theo’s hair, but he doesn’t pull. Just keeps it there, allowing his head to bob up and down in time with the ministrations of Theo’s mouth on his dick. He didn’t need to stop Theo, if Stiles wanted he would stop himself. He wasn’t trying to hurt Stiles, wasn’t trying to use him. He just wanted to help him, he wanted Stiles to be happy.

His hands were strong against his back earlier that night, but the gesture was purely for Stiles' pleasure. Everything Theo was doing was for Stiles. It could even be argued that he brought himself off as a way to mark and protect Stiles. This information should have been disconcerting. He knows he’s known Theo since they were kids, even though they lost touch after Theo moved away. There was still something off about him though, not something familiar, but Theo always carried himself like he was familiar. Like he knew Stiles, better than Malia, better than Scott, sometimes better than himself. And that should frighten him, but it didn’t. It made him more adventurous. Made him want to test Theo’s limits, see how far he could push him. He hasn’t felt this way since-

“I’m close!” Stiles rasps out as he idly pinches his nipple, igniting another bolt of lightning through his body. Theo pulls off and begins to jack Stiles firmly in his hand. Stiles comes with a soft yelp, his orgasm racing through his body as spots appear behind his eyelids. He breathes long, slow breaths until he finally opens his eyes to see that Theo has caught his cum in his hand and is rubbing it into his belly. Stiles watches through his dopey, fucked out gaze and Theo smirks before laying down on his side next to Stiles. He pillows his arm behind his head and reaches out, playing his soiled hand on Stiles’ waist. Stiles considers it briefly and turns to look back at Theo who is jerking himself off quickly, looking directly into Stiles’ eyes. His mouth is slack as little puffs of breath are punched out as Theo works quickly.

“No, stop, let me. Let me do this for you.” Stiles whispers as he shoos Theo’s hand away. He looks back into the dark green bog of Theo’s eyes and grasps his dick firmly. It’s a good handful and thick, but cut. Stiles guesses that if you’re bit the foreskin doesn’t grow back. Where Stiles has the length, Theo has the thickness as long veins pulsate and bulge out the sides onto soft skin. He speeds up and slows down as Theo attempts to thrust shallowly into Stiles’ fist. He finally stills and releases, some hitting Stiles, but most hitting the towel still laid out underneath him. Never one to let a moment of silence go uninterrupted Stiles speaks,

“Twice? Is that a werewolf thing?” He asks as Theo gets his breathing back under control. The wolf smirks and shakes his head.

“Nah, normally that’s just a teenager thing. Twice following the time in the shower? _That_ was a werewolf thing.” Theo chuckles and closes his eyes, breathing shallowly as he gives into the beginning stages of sleep. Stiles closes his eyes without further thought and joins him.

Stiles wakes up once in the early morning. Probably about 4:30am or so. Some instinctual part of the two boys drove their bodies to seek each other and Stiles’ head now is resting on Theo’s shoulder as Theo snuffles into his neck. They smell like cum and stale weed; Stiles is semi hard again, gearing up for an epic morning boner. Stiles thinks maybe he should move. Instead he goes back to sleep.

By the time Stiles wakes up, Theo is gone. He idly reaches down to palm his morning wood and sits up slowly. He notices his head isn’t throbbing like it normally would be and wonders if Theo sapped him before he woke up. He likes the thought of that, but again it scares him. He sees his ratty clothes in a bag and pulls on the sweats and shirt Theo left out for him the night before. He grabs the towel off the bed and throws it into the laundry hamper in the closet. He sees a small baggy of buds and throws it in with his clothes on his way out.

He gathers up his things and walks downstairs to find Theo at the table half dressed. He doesn’t look at Stiles coming in, but he sniffs the air as Stiles walks around him to the empty chair. He looks briefly at Stiles’ bag near the door and turns back to his glass of milk. He’s made Stiles breakfast which means he poured some cereal and a glass of orange juice.

“Wow, a gourmet meal from a gourmet chef,” he says with sleep in his voice. “Is this the current market rate for letting your back get jizzed on?” Stiles begins to blanch before the words fully leave his mouth. He looks apologetically at Theo who’s just watching him with wide eyes. Stiles expects him to reply with offerings of bacon or a western omelet, but instead Theo motions towards Stiles’ head.

“How’s your head? Are you still in pain?” He asks, mercifully ignoring Stiles’ outburst. He was giving Stiles an out, but Stiles can’t take leaving it unresolved.

“I’m sorry man, I was just… it confused me and when things confuse me and I can’t figure them out I usually make jokes about them and I’m a teenager so all my jokes involve my dick or vague references to prostitution.” Stiles explains, mostly with his hands. Theo smirks and shrugs.

“Really, Stiles. It’s fine. We don’t have to-”

“No man, that came off as really shitty. It’s… was it like a marking thing? Scott never does it, but he still doesn’t know a lot about the wolf side of things, he’s still so scared to venture to that side, no matter how much I tell him I’ll be there to make sure he’s okay. It’s like he doesn’t trust-” Stiles stops and looks at Theo who’s walked over to the freezer and pulled out a box of waffles.

“I got butter and syrup too, you know, to make up for inflation.” Theo offers as Stiles huffs out a sharp laugh. He shakes his head.

“No, thanks, this is great, really.” Stiles turns on his phone and thumbs through his messages, mostly not paying attention, but instead thinking about what his day was going to hold for him. The thing with Theo had been… illuminating. He still didn’t trust the guy, knew he was hiding big secrets that were probably going to get him killed at some point, but for the moment Stiles couldn’t bring himself to hate the guy for it. Stiles had secrets. Stiles killed a guy and kept the ‘O’ ring from the scaffolding to prove it. It wasn’t like a trophy, but more of a reminder. He could show it to Theo, and know Theo would get it.

That’s what really helps him accept the presence of Theo without really dropping his guard. That Theo wasn’t smarter or claimed to be better than him, and Theo wasn’t dumber or less interested than him. They were the same. And even though Stiles terrified himself sometimes, he knew himself well enough to deal. He knows that part of Theo well enough. He picks up his phone and makes a long overdue call.

“Yeah, Scott, no it’s fine. I went by Derek’s old loft… yeah, still have the access code and it’s his building so it was cool. Theo had to go home, but he dropped me off there. No-” Stiles cuts his eyes to Theo who is washing up the breakfast dishes and not bothering with the pretense of privacy. “-you were right, Scott. He’s not so bad.” Theo gives a grin and subtle nod at the acknowledgement while Stiles finishes his story.

“So what the fuck are we going to do about these doctors?” Theo perks up as Stiles openly discusses a new plan with Scott.

***

Theo watches as Stiles ambles away from the house, checking his phone and undoubtedly coming up with even more excuses for where he’s been and what to tell his dad and girlfriend. Theo’s glad Stiles is finally trusting him, he’d been a hard nut to crack, but that was three down. Theo used Scott’s own naivety against him, Malia was never a challenge and now he had Stiles right where he wanted him. He might end up having to ride the closet-case little fucker, but it was a small price to pay to get to his end goal. Lydia was going to be difficult, but if she kept fucking around with the firestarter, she might take herself out of the picture. His plans for Kira are already in motion and of course Liam and his little girl toy are already under control.

He figures he’ll give Stiles a couple of days to breathe, to miss him. Then he’ll make his approach, maybe climb into the boy’s window as a reminder of another wolf that used to do the same thing. Theo’s done a lot of research on Stiles before hand and it baffles him that no one seemed to pick up on the mutual attraction there. He couldn’t wait to use it to endear Stiles even more to him.

Then, when Stiles was firmly on his side, he could finally put his plan into motion.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave comments and kudos, they're like crack to us. Much like Steo.
> 
> Check me out at [@FiccinDylan on Tumblr](http://ficcindylan.tumblr.com) and Ethan [@hauntthebones](http://hauntthebones.tumblr.com) or [@dulcetfrost](http://twitter.com/dulcetfrost) on Twitter!


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